Page 121 of Vegas Daddies

He stands, both fists at his sides, with a jaw that looks like it’s about to explode. Lifesaver stands the same way, but in his dominant hand is a gun.

And he fingers for the trigger.

It’s too dark to see properly. A small light on the wall is the only thing that stops the room from falling into darkness. Using the dark corner in which I’m standing to my advantage, I grip the knife in my hand and string together a plan. Carefully, I step one foot out.

My next move will be to drive the knife deep into Vlad’s chest.

Of course that’s when he decides to move.

Brander throws himself at Vlad instead. But he catches the punch, feeding his own fist back to Brander. More of Vlad’s posse materialize.

Peter cowers in the corner. It’s a wonder nobody’s shot him yet.

Vlad yanks Levi up from the floor. Fixes him up with a gun.

“What’s this?” I glimpse the smug smile on the boy’s face.

“A Glock 17L. Ever heard of it?” Levi shakes his head. Vlad snaps his fingers in Peter’s direction. “You’re going to kill him.”

My vision blurs from the attackers, but I swear I see Levi’s entire blood supply drain.

“What? I thought?—”

“You want to be my little hacker, do you? Prove yourself.”

“Sir, all due respect. A hacker’s greatest strength is their intelligence. Not?—”

“You want Alice’s father dead,” Vlad says. “She’ll thrive without him. Those wereyourwords that came out ofyourmouth, so come on. Let’s see what you’re made of. You’ve killed before. This shouldn’t be any different.”

Levi’s cold face suggests that it is.

I stifle a laugh. He’s a hypocrite. And as much as I hate to admit it, he’s growing on me. Perhaps hedoeshave morals.

“Levi,” Peter cries. “Think about what you’re doing.”

The boy turns back to Peter.

Then to Vlad.

He looks at his boss like he’s fucking in love with him. I’m unsure how long the staring challenge lasts between the two of them—I’m too busy fighting off more of Vlad’s pets—but when a loudTHUDechoes through the room, I strain my eyes and look back over.

“Suit yourself,” Vlad says.

He punches Peter in the gut, and then hurls Levi into him. The two crash to the ground together, Levi on top, the Glock pressed against Peter’s chest.

The boy should abandon the gun if he knows what’s good for him.

But it’s too late.

Vlad takes out a Tag Heuer phone and frames the shot.

Click!

“Now, move aside.” When Levi struggles, Vlad intervenes and rips the boy away from Peter. He releases a shotgun from his own blazer, this one bigger and with a wider muzzle that shoots bullets twice as big.

“I don’t understand,” Levi says.

Vlad’s triangle chin juts out in the shadowy light. “You fucked my wife. What makes you think I would have welcomed you into the syndicate?”

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